A Tale of Four Paths
by Rosamanelle
Summary: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the interdimensional spectacular! See history in the making for a world other than our own. Featuring parodies of the following genres: the sci-fi, the soap opera, the western, and the swashbuckler! Rated K because, seriously, this is a parody. No one really gets hurt in parodies.
1. Introduction (Part 1 of 6)

A man stands in the center of the black abyss, the only light coming from the intricate, glowing blue pattern beneath him and the glowing dice in his hand. Blue light glinted eerily off of his silver mask, the slot for his golden eye casting shadows over the rest of his face. An unseen smirk crossed his face, juggling the dice carefully.

They were the main players in tonight's show, you see.

He bowed slightly, silver hair falling in his face.

"Welcome to Henir's Time and Space, ladies and gentlemen." He straightened up, eye gleaming. The chains and locks around his neck clanked with the movement, creating a jarring noise in the otherwise silent space.

"My name is Glave, although I am more than certain that you all know that." He chuckled, a strange, warbled noise.

"Tonight, you are going to witness something that no other mortal has seen before. Tonight, you are going to see history in the making - wars fought and won, kingdoms toppled, friendships formed and broken, and lives lost. All for your viewing pleasure, ladies and gentlemen."

He lifted his hand high, the floating dice following and glowing all the brighter. "These are pieces of Time and Space; windows to another world, if you will." Another chuckle escaped his lips, as if he knew something that the rest did not.

"Windows to another world, indeed. Now..."

Delicately plucking the first of four cubes from the air, he crushed in in his hands, a swirling vortex appearing before him. As the vortex began to slow and clear up, it showed a strange view - stars, comets, and moons, all filling up an expanse of blackness.

Outer space.

Glave smirked, an almost unseen flash gleaming in his deadened right eye.

"Let the show begin."

* * *

[A/N:]

Very quick note: This is basically me just parodying a whole bunch of genres for fun; this is just a quick intro. All the chapters are written out already, but we'll see if I remember to update. Also, there will be no reviewer replies until the very last chapter, mostly because me writing a parody means that it'll be short, and I don't want to even think about an A/N being longer than the chapter. That is all.

Stay tuned!

| Rosamanelle


	2. The Sci-Fi (Part 2 of 6)

_SATELLITE BATTLES_

* * *

Crown Galactic Princess Aisha panted heavily, scurrying down the white corridors of the Graveyard, the largest battleship of the entire Dark Rebellion. She grit her teeth as she recalled the way her guardians were brutally slaughtered by the gas-masked forces of the leader of the Dark Rebellion, Darth Moeder Eve.

They had relentlessly fired beams of light into her companions, instantly frying them, but thankfully their aim was terrible enough to miss her completely, not even singing the hem of her purple dress.

That, and she is a main character. Main characters never die this early in the story.

Shaking her head to clear away unnecessary thoughts, Aisha gasped, running into a sliding door, the keypad shining at her mockingly. Dammit! If only she had a laser gun! Then she'd be able to shoot the keypad, and even though it doesn't substitute for the correct combination nor does it actually break the locking mechanism, it would force the door to open for her regardless!

As footsteps drew closer, Aisha trembled. No, she would not die here today. She would go down with a fight.

Slow claps drew her closer to her doom. "Eve," she said flatly, turning to face her would-be-murderer. Even if Aisha towered over the petite silverette by a good couple inches, the smaller woman still managed to look down on everyone, instilling fear with every glance. Probably because Eve was teetering on six-inch stilettos. And a footstool. Two footstools, actually. "You should speed up your clapping if you wish to sound like anything but an idiot, Dark Moeder."

Eve scoffed, dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulder, her goons running up behind her, slightly out of breath. "I am clapping slowly to emphasize your failure, Princess. Or should I say, ex-Princess. Black Crows, it's execution time!"

More of the Black Crows arrived, raising their weapons in perfect unison. No! She couldn't die here!

"Princess!"

Suddenly a beam of light washed over her, her fingers and toes beginning to tingle.

"No!" Eve shouted ardently, reaching out but making no actual move to retrieve the escaping Princess. "She's being beamed out! Someone stop her!"

No one moved.

Closing her eyes, Aisha felt familiar arms wrap around her waist. Reopening them, she welcomed the familiar sight of the Exitprise, first ship of the Royal Ruben Division.

"Captain Elsword," she breathed out, wrapping her arms around her redheaded saviour. "I knew you would make it in time."

Elsword smiled, stroking her hair gently. "I told you I would."

Raven, first mate and second-in-command, cleared his throat. "Captain. We've received a transmission from the King."

Disentangling himself from Aisha, Elsword took his place in the captain's seat. "Put it on screen, Add."

Add, the weapons expert, nodded, pressing several buttons, each making its own noise. "Transmission in progress, Captain."

The screen at the front of the Exitprise flickered to life, the King's face suddenly appearing. He was old and kind, many wrinkles marring his once-handsome features. "Captain Elsword," he said, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "I see you've saved my daughter after her convoy was attacked. Thank you. But we have more pressing matters for you to attend to. You see, Darth Moeder Eve is about to make a move. She plans..."

* * *

"...to turn the entire galaxy into one giant game of marbles!"

Eve cackled evilly, hands in the air and head thrown back. "We shall suck all the water out of the planet known as Elrios, place it into a giant container, and release it back into the planet! Then, the force will displace the planet and cause it to crash into the next one, then the next, and the next, in a chain reaction!" She cackled again. "Nothing can ruin this master plan!"

Physics be damned and all.

"Can you see it, Black Crow #343? The entire galaxy in a beautiful disarray, and all because of me!" She cackled once more. Black Crow #343 nodded solemnly, politely ignoring the fact that he was actually Black Crow #344.

* * *

Aisha gasped. "How horrible! We must stop Darth Moeder Eve's plan to destroy the galaxy!"

Elsword nodded. "We'll do it, King. End transmission." The king's face disappeared as Elsword turned to Add, his face schooled into one of complete seriousness. "Add, beam me down to the Graveyard."

Add nodded. "Beaming down in progress, Captain."

Materializing on the inner deck of the Graveyard, Elsword was faced with hundreds of laser guns pointed in his direction. "Fool," Eve hissed, her arms crossed. "Did you not think that I would anticipate your attack?" Here she snickered. "You've foiled my plans one too many times, Captain Elsword. The removal of the water from Elrios is almost complete! Now, watch as your home planet is destroyed!"

Elsword's eyes widened in fear as the last of Elrios's water was sucked up in a giant vacuum, conveniently ignoring the fact that the removal of all the water was way too quick, as well as several other plot holes that would otherwise be questioned (if not for the fact that, in outer space, they could be written off as the capabilities of futuristic technology).

"Ha!" Eve shrieked gleefully, arms waving in the air. "The Dark Rebellion has finally succeeded! Black Crow #343, hit the button!"

Nothing.

"Black Crow #343?"

Suddenly, a purple-haired figure swooped down, slamming a thick book over Eve's head. Eve crumpled to the ground, eyes rolling to the back of her head. Aisha stood overtop of her, breathing heavily. "That's what you get!"

The Black Crows surrounding Elsword began to panic.

"What do we do now?! Darth Moeder has been incapacitated! Run around like a headless space chicken!" They started running in circles, arms flailing and weapons firing at random.

"I'm just running in circles because everyone else is!" One of them screamed, tripping and falling flat on his face.

Elsword darted over to Aisha, tugging her out of the panicked Black Crows' path. "Thanks, Princess. Now let's release all the water!"

The duo ran to a large control panel, dodging several of Eve's goons along the way. Skidding to a halt, Elsword crowed triumphantly. "We can save the galaxy by simply pressing one specific button! Piece of cake!" He glanced at the control panel. It was covered in flashing buttons; large, small, round, square, you name it. "Cake made out of needles, that is."

Aisha pointed to a large red button. "This one!"

Elsword gaped at her. "No way! It's never the red button. It's probably this one..." He hit a random button, wincing as a siren flared up and a robotic voice rang up, lights flashing red.

"SELF DESTRUCT IN T-10 MINUTES."

Elsword furrowed his eyebrows. "Okay, not that one. This one?" Upon hitting the buttons, the sirens blared louder.

"SELF DESTRUCT IN T-10 SECONDS. 9. 8. 7."

Aisha stared at Elsword, wide-eyed. "Good one, dweeb! Now we're all going to die!"

Elsword put his hands up to defend himself valiantly. "Hey! There are way too many buttons!"

Aisha rolled her eyes, slamming her hand on the red button before Elsword could stop her. The sirens stopped, the lights returning to normal. The robotic voice rang out once more.

"SELF-DESTRUCT HALTED. RETURNING ALL WATER TO ELRIOS."

"Damn," Elsword swore quietly. "That computer really knows everything." He turned to Aisha. "Speaking of which, how did you know that it was the red button?"

Aisha deadpanned, an eyebrow raised sarcastically. "I helped design the ship, dweeb."

And so, the world of Elrios was once again saved by the dashing Captain Elsword and the lovely Princess Aisha, who flew off to explore the expanse of space in the Exitprise, awaiting the adventures and glory to come with bated breath.

 _\- END -_

* * *

The portal trembled, shivering like a leaf about to be blown away by the breeze. Glave chuckled, eye glinting with something unknown and dangerous.

"A fitting end for such a tale, really. Hmph." With a wave of his hands, the portal crumbled, blowing away in an invisible breeze. Glave strode forwards, the light around him following his every step - a spotlight of sorts. Bending down, Glave picked up a small cube that was left behind, inspecting it carefully and nodding in satisfaction at the small stars that twinkled within.

"A token from their world," he said, almost an afterthought, golden eye boring into the depths surrounding him. "But that is not the story for now. The story you are looking for, ladies and gentlemen, is this."

With those words, he crushed his second cube, scattering its remains to form the next vortex of swirling mist. Upon clearing, a new sight sprang to life - sterile white beds all lined up in a row, the smell of disinfectant and cleanliness wafting through the window to another world delicately.

A hospital room.

"Let the show begin."

* * *

[A/N:]

Had too much fun writing this. Seriously.


	3. The Soap Opera (Part 3 of 6)

_EMERGENCY ROOM: CRITICAL CONDITION_

* * *

Ara sat down on the doctor's bench, waiting for her diagnosis. She had been feeling a little under the weather recently, and had finally decided to go get checked out.

The doctor re-entered the room, sitting down in his chair with a serious expression on his face. "Miss Haan?" Ara nodded warily. The doctor let out a heavy sigh, removing his glasses. "You have a cold."

Ara let out a sigh of relief. God, he was making her nervous with all of the -

"We expect that you only have three more months left to live if we don't operate immediately."

Eyes wide, she stared at the doctor. Was she on Punk'd or something? Was Ashton Kutcher hiding under the table, waiting for the right moment to jump out and yell 'Surprise!' and scare her out of her wits?

"We're truly sorry to have to tell you the bad news."

Nope. No Aston Kutcher.

Ara fainted.

* * *

Aren stood outside of the hospital, impatiently waiting for the results of his sister's sudden operation, a cup of warm coffee in his hands. A few feet away, a homeless man with blond hair and blue eyes stared at him. Aren stared back, wondering what the problem was. A sleek black car pulled up beside him, the door opening and revealing an impeccably dressed man, distracting him from the homeless man.

His father.

"Aren," his father said, head inclined. "Is Ara doing alright?"

Aren sighed heavily, taking a quick sip of his hot drink. "I'm waiting to figure out. Are you worried about her?"

His father nodded, reaching into his pocket. "Of course I am. I'm her father. Aren, I can't thank you enough for taking care Ara for me all these years." Pulling out his wallet, his father pulled out a thick wad of bills. "Please, take this. As a thank you."

Aren retreated, hands up, eyes blown wide in shock. "Father! I couldn't; you work so hard for this money! Keep it!"

His father shook his head, holding out the money and moving it closer, as if hoping to entice Aren. "Take it."

"I can't."

"Take it!"

"I can't!"

"Take it," Aren's father said more firmly. "Don't you want to know about your mother?" Aren suddenly dropped his coffee.

"My mother...? Who's sick and has been in the hospital for almost all of my life?"

"Yes," his father said. "Your mother..."

"My mother..."

"Is... healthy now. She got better!"

Aren breathed out a sigh of relief, before a look of confusion crossed his face as he stared at the spilled coffee, then at his father.

"Aren?" His father said, slowly moving closer.

"Who are you?"

* * *

Ara's eyes were closed peacefully, as if she were sleeping. They snapped open the instant the operation doors opened, however. A redheaded surgeon smiled down at her, his purple-haired assistant standing beside him.

"Relax, we're professionals. We know what we're doing."

Ara nodded, watching with slight apprehension as the assistant picked up a tray with trembling hands. The surgeon, seemingly noticing, nudged her gently. "You're making the patient nervous, Aisha. You shouldn't be this nervous, anyways. Here, pass me the tray." The trembling assistant nodded, attempting to calm her nerves.

"Yes, Dr. Sieghart." She handed him the tray.

His hands shook more, sending things flying off and clattering to the ground.

Ara gulped nervously, her heart monitor flaring.

"Relax, we're professionals."

Somehow that was not comforting.

Suddenly, Ara's heart gave up, her heart monitor going flat. The surgeon, Dr. Sieghart, threw the tray over his shoulder, eyes wide. "She's in V-fib! Quick! Get the AED!"

The assistant, Aisha nodded. "Her body's gone into acute shock due to a rapid loss in blood pressure, creating hypotension and possible an aneurysm in the -" Dr. Sieghart cut her off, waving his hand impatiently.

"It's bad, we get it! Go get the AED!"

Aisha shrieked in surprise, running off. Dr. Sieghart turned back to Ara's flailing body. "Stay with me now, stay with me!"

Returning with the defibrillation paddles, Aisha handed them to the surgeon and turned on the power source. "120! Clear!"

 _Shock._

Nothing happened. Dr. Sieghart grit his teeth, raising the paddles again. "200!" Aisha turned up the electricity. "Clear!"

 _Shock._

Again, nothing. Staring at the paddles, Dr. Sieghart raised them once more. "Uh... 2,000!"

Aisha screeched, knocking over a tool table set up a little too close to her. "What?!"

Dr. Sieghart nodded, confirming his decision. "2,000! Let's go!" Aisha hesitantly turned up the electricity. "Clear!"

* * *

Aren stared, face pale, at the slobbering, sobbing man that he did not know at all at his feet.

The man sniffled, whining some more. "A-Aren..."

Aren took a step back. And another. And another. And - nope, moving forwards, he was getting _way_ too close to the blond homeless man for comfort. Why was he still there, anyways? "I, uh, really don't know... Um, how do you know me? What are you doing?"

Whining-sobfest on the ground wailed again. "Aren...!"

Aren nodded brusquely. "Yup, I'm officially weirded out. Time to go."

The man shot up, before clutching his heart and releasing the single most terrifying sound Aren had ever heard in his entire lifetime. He'd be damned if that didn't haunt all of his nightmares from this moment on. The man writhed, flailed, then fell still, his breath heavily laboured.

Then Aren remembered.

 _Oh my god._

"Dad!"

* * *

When Ara finally opened her eyes, she was not expecting to see her surgeon and his assistant arguing with each other.

"I told you! That was too much! It was going to kill her!"

Wait, kill her? What?

"But it didn't! Seriously, it's fine! She's fine now!"

"But she nearly died!"

Wait, nearly died? Her?

"But she didn't so it's okay! Gosh, stop ruining this moment."

"But she nearly died!"

Sitting up with a startling amount of ease for someone just operated on, Ara interrupted the duo. "Have you seen my brother?"

Aisha shook her head. "No, I haven't. But I did see him hanging around outside instead of coming inside like a normal person. Try looking for him there."

Ara nodded, standing up easily despite the - wait, what did they even operate on in the first place?

Eh, whatever. It probably wasn't important anyways.

* * *

"Doctor! I need a doctor! Please, someone save my dad!" Aren wasn't sure why he was screaming for a doctor when he was _quite literally_ standing in front of a hospital, but he chalked it up to tension and dramatic effect.

Theatrics. Nasty thing.

The homeless blond man stood up, throwing his cardboard sign dramatically. "I'M A DOCTOR!"

Aren stared at him.

He stared back.

"Well, I _was_ until the medical accident."

Aren shook his head, beckoning the homeless doctor closer. "Doctor, can you save him?"

The blond stared at Aren's fallen father pensively. "You should prepare for the worst."

Aren cringed. Oh, the clichés.

"I've tried my best. You should've come earlier."

Before Aren could do anything, Ara stormed out of the hospital, a look of pure shock overcoming her delicate features as she stared at her father, Aren, and the homeless man. "Aren, why are you here? Why... why is dad on the ground?"

No one moved for a moment, letting awkward silence hang over them. The silence was broken by their father, who started coughing violently, hand grasping at the air. "My child..." He rasped, reaching out as Aren and Ara crowded around him.

"Dad, are you okay?!"

Sitting up slowly, their father began to reach into his coat pocket. "Aren, Ara... I have nothing to offer you but..." Grabbing the mysterious object, their father pulled a large bottle of shampoo out of the inner pocket, gently handing it over to Aren. "...my precious shampoo."

Aren held the shampoo up to the light, staring at the pink-and-gold bottle in childish wonder. "Is this... is this the shampoo approved by the FDA?"

Ara piped in, grabbing the bottle from Aren, turning it in her hands with awe. "The shampoo made of organic Argan oil that prevents hair splitting?" She turned to their father. "Dad, why are you giving us this so suddenly?"

He coughed into his hands, sitting up a little straighter. "Find your long-lost brother, my children. Use this shampoo as evidence."

Aren stared at him, eyes wide with shock. "What?"

Their father nodded again. "Yes... Your brother holds the conditioner..." With that, he exhaled heavily, eyes closing as he passed away from this world.

"Brother... I have a brother?" Aren said, hands trembling. The homeless man turned to the duo slowly, lifting a matching bottle of conditioner into the air at an equally slow pace.

"Brother... Sister?"

They faced each other - as siblings - for the first time, speaking in unison with joyous grins splitting their faces. "If used together, they provide total hair treatment!"

Bodies crashed together in a tight hug, and for once, they felt not so alone.

\- END -

* * *

Glave shook his head in amusement, watching as the portal collapsed in on itself, collecting his cube filled with, oddly enough, shampoo and conditioner. "So this is not the story you seek, is it?"

Tucking the cube away in the breast pocket of his undercoat, he pondered his next move carefully, slowly selecting one of the remaining two cubes and crushing it deftly with the flick of his wrist.

"Perhaps this one will please you more."

The portal unfolded, revealing a dusty, reddened world filled with battered wooden buildings on either side of the dust street. A tumbleweed blew by in the invisible wind, drifting aimlessly.

"The wild, wild West," Glave muttered, almost to himself, but his golden eye shining knowingly said otherwise.

"Let the show begin."

* * *

[A/N:]

I am officially screwed up in the head. And making fun of PPLs (product placements) is surprisingly more fun than I thought.


End file.
